


Can't Help It

by RednReady



Category: The Blacklist (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-12
Updated: 2017-11-18
Packaged: 2019-01-16 10:06:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 744
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12340527
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RednReady/pseuds/RednReady
Summary: post 5x2 drabble





	1. Warning

Unable to afford his high-end staff on a long-term basis, Reddington resorted to calling on a loyal few. Once one of the many low-level and faceless behind-the-scenes managers of the Reddington empire, Julia Hagen now found herself physically by his side. Answering to him directly. Doing the oddest of tasks without question. This, by far, the oddest.

"You're hiding something."

Tom Keen looked up from loading the dishwasher in surprise. He gave her a polite, inquisitive smile. "Excuse me?"

Julia smirked. "I know your past, I've heard the story. You've got this... too perfect vibe going right now. It reminds me of when my son thought he was getting away with something."

He laughed. "I'm just happy to be home."

"Uh-huh." Julia sat down at the table and quirked an eyebrow. "Sure."

He tilted his head. "Weren't you just supposed to drop something off for Liz?"

"Ah, right." She dug in her shoulder bag for the papers. "From Reddington. Information for their next case." She tossed them on the table. "Now, back to whatever it is you're up to-"

Tom turned the dishwasher on and threw up his hands. "I'm not up to anything. And even if I was, no offense, but I wouldn't tell you."

Julia nodded. "I get it. My ears are Reddington's ears. And it's none of my business."

"Okay, then."

"But Reddington is my business. Which means your wife's well-being is my business." She gathered her bag, and stood up. "Which brings us back to you."

Tom's smile faded. He leaned over the back of the opposite kitchen chair. "Do you usually interrogate people you've just met? Did Reddington put you up to this?"

Julia smirked. "Call it a mother's intuition." She walked around the table. "I hope you don't take offense. But like I said, I've heard the whole story."

She searched his face, summoning the most concerned look she could muster. "I can only imagine what it must have been like. Growing up alone. Depending on yourself to survive. I can't stand to think of my son in that situation. But look at you now. You've carved a life for yourself out of chaos. Against all odds you have a child and a woman who loves you. You have a good life here, even though you probably don't deserve it."

She took a step closer, touching the wedding ring that hung from the chain around her neck. "I know what it's like to lose everything. Take my advice. Whatever it is you're dealing with, forget it. Let it go. You have a life. Don't throw that away."

She left him standing silent in the kitchen.

Julia could feel his eyes on her as she made her way down the sidewalk. He hadn't seemed like the monster she was half-expecting, but there was something off about him just the same. The thought of him watching her gave her a slight chill.

She turned the corner and slipped into the back seat of the waiting car.

"What did he say?"

"He won't stop. He can't help it."


	2. Aftermath

'Tom is dead.'

Funny how those words ring in his ears.

He'd wanted Tom's blood to run in the streets since he'd first heard the news. Had taken absolute delight in sending Zamani to torture him for information. Had longed for the day when Elizabeth would let him go so he could wrap his hands around his impertinent neck.

Tom is dead. Finally. And Reddington should rejoice.

But all he feels is pain.

Not for Tom, of course. But for Elizabeth. The woman who tragically fell for the worst thing for her and refused to let go. Who will be devastated if she wakes up.

 _When_ she wakes up.

He has second guessed every action he's ever taken the last few weeks. If he'd known, he would have done things differently. Oh, so differently.

The memory of her broken skull cradled lightly in his hands permeates his thoughts. He's hardly slept in days. He clings to Agnes and thanks whatever gods may be that she wasn't home.

He curses Tom Keen and his damn stubbornness.

He curses himself.

He tries not to think about a woman in Paris who woke up, but will never be the same.

He thinks of Kate. Dear Kate. Damn Kate. What would she think if she could see the end of her actions now?

And all to drive him away.

Maybe he should have let himself be driven.


End file.
